


Behave

by onebizarrekai



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Despair Disease (Dangan Ronpa), I wouldn't exactly describe this as romantic, Implied spoilers, Kagehara, M/M, Oma Kokichi Being Oma Kokichi, Short lil thing, gay but what are they THINKING, no idea if I'll continue this, shuichi got the despair disease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27154033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onebizarrekai/pseuds/onebizarrekai
Summary: Shuichi catches the Despair Disease.
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 11
Kudos: 299
Collections: Quality Fics





	Behave

**Author's Note:**

> so like I wanted to try my hand at writing kagehara just for fun but I have a personal vendetta against fanon pregame so this happened instead
> 
> I have learned one thing through this experience, and it's that kagehara is a crackhead

Kokichi wasn’t used to being the main character–well, in a way. Of course he perceived himself as the main character, being Kokichi and all, but he also felt a bit like he played the role of the sneaky antagonist who caused problems on purpose. It wouldn’t be far off, and he wouldn’t blame people for agreeing.

That said, it was not his job to take care of people, yet here he was, because his beloved Shuichi Saihara wasn’t entirely functional at the moment and everyone disliked Kokichi enough to saddle him with responsibility. The Despair Disease was nonsensical, but when had any of this ever made sense? He supposed it was more fun like that, anyway. Kokichi had a sneaking suspicion that the others wanted him to get sick, but again, he wouldn’t blame them.

In the end, he was absolutely doing this out of the goodness of his pure little heart. Who was he to complain?

Shuichi wasn’t exactly responsive ever since he’d gotten the disease. Feverish, tired, not really able to move that well–it was pretty generic. He didn’t really talk much, even though Kokichi spilled his usual lies. No matter how much he prodded, Shuichi just watched him blankly. It grew boring very quickly, that first day of caring for him. Even when Kokichi told him that all of the other infected patients were displaying various odd symptoms–which was not a lie, for once–Shuichi just made a noise and turned his head.

Day two, on the other hand, was very, very different. Kokichi assumed that Shuichi would start showing a unique symptom at some point, and when he arrived that morning to feed him breakfast, he was surprised to see the previously-near-motionless detective staring out the window.

“Saiharaaaa!” Kokichi greeted loudly with no reservation. “Are you feeling better so soon? Man, guess that means I finally get to stop taking care of you!”

For once in his life, Kokichi felt a spark of genuine fear for a half second as Shuichi looked over his shoulder and giggled, sounding just the slightest bit unhinged. He was hunched and fidgeting, normal for Shuichi, but not quite to such an intimidating caliber. He was definitely still sick.

“O-Ouma…” he squeaked. “You took care of me all day yesterday, isn’t that weird? Just the two of us… _alone_ …”

“Aw, Saihara, do you have a crush on me?” Kokichi asked, laying his tray of food on the dresser. He was very concerned, not that he would let anyone in the world know that. “I know, I know. I’m irresistible.”

Shuichi’s face somehow got redder than it already was. He looked away, biting a fingernail. “You’re… You’re _so_ cool,” he mused. There was definitely something wrong with him. Kokichi circled around behind him, guiding him back to his bed and giving him a firm push to seat him. “Hehehee… I got sick… Ouma, it’s freezing. Can I hold you?”

Kokichi smiled, putting his hand on Shuichi’s gross, sweat-soaked forehead to push him over. “No!” he said, an all-too-cheery tone in his voice. “Eat your food or you’re gonna die.” He retrieved the tray, taking a moment to grimace at the hand he’d just touched Shuichi with.

“Oh…” Shuichi mumbled defeatedly as he lay there. “Hey, would it be cool if I died? Ah… no. That’d be a boring way to go.”

“Saihara, you sound like a stoner. It pains me to be honest, but you need to shut up,” Kokichi said flatly, already sensing future problems. Even he had brain cells, sometimes. “Whatever would the world do without the beloved Shuichi Saihara? You just might destroy the balance of the universe.”

“Whoa…” Shuichi mused, staring up at the ceiling as Kokichi laid the tray on the table next to him. “If the world collapsed without me, that would be totally crazy.” He shivered, laying a shaking hand on the tray of food. “Ouma, what do you think would happen if _everyone_ got this disease?”

“Sounds fun,” Kokichi responded almost automatically, although the words weren’t true for a moment.

“They’re waiting for a murder to happen,” Shuichi said quietly, still trembling from the fever. “A… _Another_ murder…” He was laughing. It was broken up and weak, barely escaping his throat.

“Oh, Saihara, that’s ridiculous,” Kokichi told him, trying to deflect Shuichi’s newfound weirdness as he sat down on the bed by the other’s legs. “Someone taking advantage of a sick person like that would be underwhelming. The disease has nothing to do with it. They probably have another motive.”

Shuichi lifted a finger to his mouth, taking it between his teeth for a moment. “But…” he mused. “Maybe that’s not it. Maybe it’s not the sick people who get murdered.” Kokichi blinked, a twitch of confusion in his eyes under the smile that normally adorned his face. Shuichi was breathing strangely as he leaned forward, slowly placing a hand on Kokichi’s shoulder and beginning to dig his fingers in just enough to be uncomfortable.

“Saihara,” Kokichi started under his breath, almost in a scolding tone. He quietly sucked in air as the other boy didn’t relent, abruptly pushing him onto his back instead and holding him by his wrists. Shuichi’s whole body was shaking, his face boiling red, eyes glazed over with diseased despair. Kokichi stared at him blankly. “This is _so_ unfair.”

Shuichi looked at him quizzically. Even though the despair coated his system, he seemed unsure of himself, his eyes darting about over the features of Kokichi’s face.

“You’re not yourself,” Kokichi told him. “Couldn’t we be here for _real_ , Saihara? Couldn’t we?”

“H…Here?” Shuichi stammered. For a moment, his voice sounded natural. He gasped, his hands jolting away from Kokichi’s wrists as he backed away. Shuichi quickly turned his body away, holding his own arms and curling up. “W-What am I doing?” He shook, laughing nervously. Kokichi pushed himself up, furrowing his brow for a second.

“Saihara,” Kokichi began again, leaning forward and knocking on Shuichi’s forehead. The detective glanced back over at him, the look in his eyes still a bit unsettling. “Behave yourself.”

Shuichi swallowed thickly, turning his head away. He laid his cheeks in his palms. “O…Okay…” he mused.

“Look at me, Saihara, and tell me you understand,” Kokichi repeated, poking a finger into Shuichi’s shoulder. “After all, I’m a supreme leader. You follow my orders until you can form a coherent thought again.”

Shuichi glanced back at him, his vision still swirling. He breathed a couple of laughs. His face was still in his hands. “Can I have a kiss as a reward?” he asked giddily.

Kokichi spread his lips into a flat line. “I’ll get sick, you big idiot. No kissing.”

Shuichi leaned forward again, barely supporting himself with his arms. “But…” he protested softly.

Kokichi shook his head, smiling innocently. He stood up, interlacing his fingers behind his head and taking a few steps away from the bed. “You’re all sweaty and gross right now, Saihara. If you put a whooole lot of effort into getting better, maybe I’ll give you a kiss.” He glanced over his shoulder, a grin creeping up his cheeks. “But only if you follow my supreme orders.”

Shuichi slumped down, holding both of his own arms. “You… you know, I’d kill for you.”

Kokichi rolled his eyes, looking away. “Jesus, Saihara. Would you stop talking about killing for two seconds? It’s getting really repetitive. I’ve heard enough about it over the course of this game.”

“You’re… bored of it?” Shuichi asked, gnawing a finger. “I thought… you liked it… that you thought the game was fun.” His expression was sinking, as if with disappointment. “I thought you thought it was _fun_ , Ouma,” he repeated, his tone getting darker.

Kokichi scoffed, his turned body concealing his eye twitching. “Of course it’d be less fun when I have to look after a loose screw who won’t shut up about it,” he almost snarled, barely covering it up with a jeering laugh. “Now get better.”

He heard Shuichi stand up behind him. Kokichi looked back over his shoulder, a mocking scowl still perceptible on his features for a moment, when Shuichi’s trembling hand grabbed him by the shoulder and whirled him around. Shuichi leaned forward in an instant, anxiously connecting their lips, and Kokichi felt Shuichi’s tongue against his teeth for only a second before he shoved the other away and Shuichi fell onto the ground with a thud.

“… You really shouldn’t test me like this, Saihara,” Kokichi told him, raising a hand to wipe his mouth with his thumb.

Shuichi stared up at him blankly for a moment before a smile cracked on his face and he broke out into giggles again, hunching forward. “S-Sorry…” he said. “You can punish me for that.”

Kokichi bent over halfway, his hands behind his back. “Punish you?” he asked. “Oh, Saihara.” He lifted up a hand, brushing a lock of Shuichi’s sickly hair behind his ear. Shuichi looked like his head was spinning, his foggy eyes drifting back down to Kokichi’s mouth. “… You can rest in solitude.”

Kokichi bounced back up, hightailing out of the room in record time and slamming his other hand onto his face.

This was not good.


End file.
